Subway Suitor
by suspiciousteacup
Summary: prompt: "They see each other every morning on the metro ride to work in the city. [...] At first, their interactions are just the swapping of smiles and nods [...] neither is quite brave enough to speak up and start a true conversation, even though they find themselves rather plagued with thoughts of the other quite often (and others are noticing [...] Lysa, Brandon [etc.])"


Ned Stark liked the early morning subway ride. Toronto was hot, even in September, and busy. It was far busier than Yellowknife, and he often found it overwhelming. That was one of the reasons he enjoyed the quiet morning subway ride. It was cool and strangely peaceful.

Most of the people on the subway were still half asleep when he got on at 5:30, and so when there was someone who seemed to enjoy early morning subway rides as much as he did, he noticed. In the case of one woman, her smile during the early morning commute wasn't the only reason he noticed her.

She was reading a book and drinking coffee and she was gorgeous. She had long, wavy, auburn hair, skin like milk and bright, sapphire blue eyes. She was slender and elegant, wearing a beautiful royal blue shirt with dark grey slacks.

There was a nametag clipped to her shirt. He recognized the logo of one of the downtown hospitals, but couldn't make out her name, printed underneath a picture of her. He wondered what she did there.

She looked up and smiled at him, and he quickly looked away, conscious that he had been staring.

Soon, the overhead speaker announced St. George station and he left, hoping that he she would be there tomorrow, though he knew it was a silly hope. There weren't as many people on the subway that early in the morning, but the chances of being on the same train as her, in the same car, for two days in a row were slim.

…

As it happened she was there the next day. He had deliberately chosen the same car he'd been in the day before, on the off chance that she'd be there. And there she was.

She nodded at him as he entered the car, and he nodded back and sat across from her.

The dark, handsome man was back again. She had noticed him looking at her yesterday. She waited for him to pull out an iPod before looking at him more closely.

He looked thoughtful, his grey eyes distant. He had a nice face. It was broad and long. Yesterday she'd thought it quite plain, a face that didn't stand out, but now that she saw it again, she thought it more handsome. A closely cropped beard accented his strong jaw and his high cheekbones made his face strangely elegant. She noticed when he stood that he was not a tall man. He was taller than her, but not tall. He was broad in the chest and shoulders and always sat with his shoulders in, as though trying to take up as little space as possible. Despite that, he was strangely intimidating. He seemed to be perpetually frowning, or at least he had frown for the entirety of both rides.

He got off a St. George, and she nodded a goodbye.

…

Sometimes he read, but mostly he just seemed to stare into the distance and think. Sometimes he listened to music. She tried to guess what kind of music he liked. She tried to picture him listening to music that didn't suit him at all and almost laughed when she tried to consider the solemn man listening to heavy metal or pop.

…

One day, with what seemed like a great effort on his part, he smiled at her. It was a small smile and it seemed tense. She blushed. She wondered if she'd been staring at him too much, if he thought her strange or creepy.

Despite her embarrassment, she could not stop thinking about him. So instead of looking at him, she pretended to read and made up stories in her head about his life. She could imagine the man as a gawky pre-teen, reading _The Lord of the Rings_ while his older and younger, more rambunctious siblings shouted and roughhoused. She imagined he'd grown up in a small town in the great woods of Ontario. She wondered if he made up similar stories about her.

"St. George. St. George Station," announced the speaker. He didn't get off. He knew he had to switch lines, but he was frustrated with himself for being unable to say anything to her. He had wanted to at least say goodbye, or ask her name, but he was so stupidly nervous. It was because she was so disarmingly beautiful. She was far too beautiful for someone as plain as him. Frustrated now, that he'd missed his stop, might be late, and still couldn't speak to her, he quickly shouldered his way out of the car at Bay.

…

One morning, she looked for him when they stopped at Dundas West; the solemn man's station. She saw him nod at her as he walked in, and before she could lose her nerve, she greeted him.

"Hello." She said shyly, smiling at him. He looked surprised, and then almost angry, and she was oddly worried that she'd offended him somehow.

But he answered. "Hello," he said in a deep, quiet voice. He sat down and ran a hand through his hair. He looked like he was going to say something more but he quickly looked down and pulled out his earphones. He sat tensely, hands gripping his legs, and he seemed determined to avoid her eyes.

However, at St. George, she heard a soft "goodbye" as he stood and quickly exited the train.

…

He went back home for the Thanksgiving weekend. As usual, it was just his parents, him and his siblings. They liked to keep the gathering small on the day of Thanksgiving, because Christmas was always celebrated with their larger family circle.

At the end of the pleasant evening, he and his siblings congregated in the kitchen to do the washing up, and Brandon asked the usual question.

"You getting laid little brother?"

"No." Benjen answered sulkily. He was the baby of the family at 16.

"Not you." Lyanna laughed.

"I wish you wouldn't ask me like that. Why do you assume that if I've met someone, I'll sleep with her right away?" He replied grouchily.

"Because that's what sane young men do." Brandon answered, shelving some dry plates.

"And sane young women." Lyanna added.

"You didn't answer the question. That means you're dating someone." Benjen said confidently.

"No it doesn't." Ned said shortly.

"Yes it does," Benjen insisted. "Otherwise you'd just say no like you normally do. You must like her a lot if you're so angry about Brandon asking about her."

Sometimes Ned hated how perceptive his little brother was.

"Out with it." Lyanna commanded.

He sighed. He would have to tell them. They would find out somehow anyways. He wouldn't put it past Brandon and Lyanna to get Benjen to tail him until they figured it out.

"I'm not seeing someone." He began, and held up a hand to stop their disbelieving protests. "But I hope I will be, soon."

"Go Ned!" Brandon clapped him on the shoulder.

They all started speaking over each other, eager to give him advice.

"ENOUGH." Ned shouted after allowing the mandatory few minutes of harassment.

They shut up, but he knew the silence wouldn't last even a minute.

"You should really wear cologne though." Benjen advised him confidently, breaking the silence. "Girls like cologne."

"You have no idea what _women_ like, Little Pup." Lyanna told him dismissively, using his nickname. "Though, incidentally a little cologne wouldn't hurt your chances." She told Ned.

And so it continued until Ned insisted that he had to go home because he had a job to get to in the morning and so did they.

He said his goodbyes, but as he left, Brandon shouted that he'd better see this mystery woman at the house by the end of the month, or he'd go find her himself.

Ned felt a stab of worry. He knew his brother wouldn't set out to date someone Ned liked, that Brandon was only joking, but what if Ned started dating her? She'd meet his family at some point, and it wouldn't be the first time someone he was dating fell for his handsome, charismatic, older brother. Brandon was way more in her league than Ned was, that was for sure.

_This is a non-issue._ He told himself, frustrated by his worry. _You've barely spoken two words to her, and you're worrying about what will happen when she meets your family. Calm down. _

…

The next morning, his heart sunk. Today she was talking with a handsome man. He was smallish, but elegant. He had dark hair, and a small beard that Ned thought made him look like an ass, but that might've just been because Catelyn seemed to care so much for him. She caught a name: Petyr.

He was grumpy all day; short with his coworkers, try as he did to shake off his disappointment at the mystery woman's mystery man. Of course she had a boyfriend. _You don't have any right to be so frustrated about it. You don't even know her name!_ Still, he could not let her go. He reasoned that he should at least talk to her; maybe figure out if the man actually was her boyfriend.

…

The next morning, she stood and greeted him as he stepped onto the train.

Before he could say anything, she smiled and stood. "Hi. I'm Catelyn Tully. Cat."

He froze, causing several people to grumble as they moved around him.

He shook her hand "I'm Eddard Stark. Ned."

She sat back down, and after a pause, he sat next to her. He smelled like cologne. It was nice, musky, if a bit overpowering.

"Do you work downtown?" She asked, after several minutes of strained silence.

"Yes." He replied. _Elaborate, stupid!_ He could hear Brandon advising him. "I just moved here from Yellowknife to work with Mr. Arryn. He's really big in my field. He's just amazing." He was nervous and his mouth seemed to not want to speak the words as his brain had directed him to speak them.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Pardon?"

"Your field."

"Oh! Sorry, I forgot that part. I'm training to become a policies advisor." He explained.

"Well that's quite a job," Catelyn commented. _That's quite a job? Did I really just say that?_ _God, Tully, pull yourself together._ She usually wasn't this tongue-tied. She rarely had trouble talking to people. It was his damn eyes. They were so solemn and sincere. "I mean, it sounds difficult."

He looked away, running a hand through his hair.

"It is. Sometimes. Often. I have to work late a lot." He looked back at her. "But I like it."

"I guess it's worth it then." She said. "I have to admit, it's not a field I pretend to know anything about."

He smiled his shy, little smile. "Well it's a far cry from working in a hospital."

She frowned slightly in confusion. "How did you know?"

He looked embarrassed. "Oh, I'm sorry. That was… I mean… your badge." He gestured at her shirt. "Hospital." He finished lamely.

She looked down at it. "Oh, of course."

"I went to school for nursing, but then I got into hospital administration." She told him.

"Wow." He said, and then, "does your boyfriend work there too?"

She looked confused, and he clarified.

"The man you were sitting with yesterday."

Then her face cleared and she laughed.

"Oh Petyr's not my boyfriend. He's… kind of like a brother. His parents and my parents were close, so when his parents died when he was seven, my family took him in. We grew up together. He's just in town for a little while on business. He still lives in our hometown."

Privately, Ned thought that Petyr had not seemed particularly brotherly, but Catelyn clearly thought of him that way and he didn't know her well enough to say anything.

"You're not from here?" He asked instead.

"No, I also just moved here too, from Saskatoon though, not Yellowknife. I'm originally from Glenrock, Wyoming."

He nodded and raised his eyebrows. "American."

She laughed. "Yep. Sorry."

His smile broadened. It lit up his face and made him more handsome. "Apologizing. You may be American, but that's very Canadian of you."

They talked until he had to get off.

He was funny, this somber northern man. It was a quiet sort of humour that you might miss if you weren't paying attention.

She got off at Queen's Park. As she walked down the tunnel to the other side of the street, she heard someone call her name.

She turned to she Ned walking quickly towards her. _He must've gotten on the train just after ours._

"I forgot to get your number." He said, slightly out of breath.

He felt like an idiot. He'd realized they'd forgotten to exchange numbers as the train had sped away, and it had seemed very logical at the time to just get the next train and meet her at Queen's Park. She had mentioned that that was her stop.

Now he just felt like a creepy stalker. _I would've seen her tomorrow. I could've gotten her number then. Oh God I'm an idiot._

But Catelyn just smiled and took out her phone. They exchanged numbers and he turned around and quickly strode off, as if trying to walk away from his embarrassment.

_He actually couldn't wait for tomorrow._ She thought with a strange joy as she walked to her office on the sixth floor of the hospital.

"You're looking awfully happy, Cat," her friend Marissa commented as Catelyn hung up her coat.

Catelyn smiled. "I met someone."

"Ooh." Marissa's pager beeped. "Fuck, gotta go." She turned back to point at Catelyn as she walked away. "I'm hearing more about this at lunch."

Cat didn't get her usual second morning coffee. She felt too lightheaded. All day she was distracted by thoughts of Ned.

…

Catelyn's uncle Brynden had moved to Toronto several years before her, and since she'd moved, she'd been over to dinner or brunch many times, usually on weekends.

One morning, when Lysa was in town briefly on a cross over from a flight to Australia, they had an early breakfast at their uncle's place.

"Can I drive you to work Cat?" Brynden asked as she washed the dishes, as she always insisted on doing, because he always made the meal.

"That's alright," she said, glancing at her watch. Her uncle was on the same subway line as she was, and if she left soon, she could just catch Ned. "I like taking the subway."

She blushed deeply.

He raised his eyebrows and smiled knowingly. She hated her traitorous face.

"Someone waiting for you?" He guessed.

"It isn't that." She informed him hotly, mostly because she didn't want to tell her family until something actually happened. They made a big deal out of everything.

"Oh I think you've just confirmed that it is, little Cat." He said mildly, leaning against the counter.

Lysa came back from the washroom. "What's this?" She asked, walking into the kitchen.

"Little Cat's got a crush on some mysterious man in the subway."

Lysa's eyes widened. _Fuck. Lysa will never let this go._

"Who is he? Wha -" She began. Catelyn cut off the tirade of questions before it could begin.

"I've got to go or I'll be late for work, and you've got a plane to catch."

"Late for your subway man you mean." Lysa corrected.

Cat got her coat and made for the door.

"Details, Cat. I want details!" She called after Catelyn.

"I'll call you." She promised, as she quickly made her exit.

That was how the family gossip had started. Soon, it seemed everyone knew about the man her sister had dubbed her Subway Suitor.

Somehow, even Petyr had heard.

"Flirting with strange men on subways, I hear." He teased as she sat down to coffee with him one day. Something about his tone made her realize that he was upset by the gossip.

She tried to brush off the conversation "I'm just talking with a nice stranger."

"How's your work going?" She asked.

"What's he like, this 'nice stranger'?" He inquired, not answering her question.

She sighed, knowing that he wouldn't let this go any less than Lysa had.

She cut the coffee break short, begging work. She was tired of this jealousy that seemed to rise in him whenever she dated or even liked someone.

…

Catelyn's hair was damp, making it darker. It was the first snowfall of the year. Ned had forgotten how much he missed the snow. It came later here than in Yellowknife.

He smiled at her as he stepped onto the train and sat down beside her.

"You look happy today." She commented.

"I love the snow. I've missed it." He admitted.

He steeled himself. He had to ask her now, before he got too nervous.

"Do you want to go out sometime?" He blurted.

"I'd love to." She was relieved he'd asked, she hadn't gathered up the nerve to do that yet. "We could grab lunch. I mean, we don't work very far apart, we could meet in the middle somewhere, or something." She could feel her blush spreading across her face and down her neck as she spoke. _I probably looked like a flustered tomato._

He didn't seem to notice. "That would be great." He answered quickly. "There's a nice little bistro I know of on Adelaide St."

He grabbed a paper and pen from his coat pocket and scribbled a name and address on it.

She smiled as he handed it to her. "Wednesday?"

"Yes. Yeah, that would be perfect."

…

Soon lunches turned into dinners and then into dinner and a concert by a cellist he bashfully admitted he was very fond of.

It was late, cold, and the concert was near her apartment.

"Do you want to come over? My apartment isn't far from here." She asked, feigning a casual tone.

"I'd like that." He replied in the quiet, sincere way he had.

He took her hand and they walked the few blocks to her place through the sleet.

Her apartment was small, but cozy. Bookshelves lined many of the walls. Everything was very orderly.

"Your place is quite nice." He noted.

She smiled and bent to take off her shoes. "Thank you."

He did the same, and then followed her into the living room.

"I like the view. That's why I picked it." She gestured to the large window that stretched from the wall behind her dining room table to the edge of the living room.

It looked out over the old railway and the nearby buildings. There was a beauty to it, used though he was to looking out over the forest of his hometown.

He turned back and bumped into her.

"Sorry." They said simultaneously.

Then, before he understood what he was doing, he kissed her.

She leaned into the kiss, and wrapped her arms around him. He drew her closer to him.

Then she pushed up his shirt, and without speaking, he broke the kiss to pull it over his head.

"Bedroom?" She asked.

He nodded.

As soon as they got there, he began again to kiss her softly, one hand moving up from her waist and under her shirt to cup her breast.

She hummed in pleasure at the contact.

It took him a few tries to unclasp her bra. He seemed somewhat unsure of himself, as though this wasn't something he often did. She liked that idea, because it meant that he probably didn't frequently seduce women on subways. Not that that had seemed probable anyways.

He heart beat quickly against her ribs as his bare chest pressed against her breasts.

She kissed him more fiercely, opening his mouth to hers. He tangled his fingers in her hair.

She unbuckled his belt and slid his trousers and underwear down. He stepped out of them, not breaking the kiss.

He did the same for her and they broke apart, staring at each other, naked in the near-darkness of her room.

She blushed as she felt his eyes on her. She had not blushed like this since her first time, but she did now because his eyes were so gentle, caring and full of awe.

She stared back at him. He wasn't pale, but he wasn't very dark. His skin was slightly brown and she remembered him saying that he grandfather was part Dene, a First Nations people from Yellowknife.

His body was well muscled and his chest was dusted with dark hair. Her eyes moved lower and stopped at the sign that he was clearly very aroused.

He shifted and she looked back at his face. He looked the way she felt: nervous, but also excited.

She reached out to draw him back to her and the kissed again, more slowly this time, letting their hands explore each other's bodies.

They fell back onto the bed. He knelt and put his hands on her knees, which became suddenly weak as she understood why he was kneeling.

"Can I?" He asked quietly.

She nodded, unable to form words.

The soft touch of his mouth against her sent a wicked shiver through her and she gasped as she felt his tongue.

His hands shook as they gripped her legs and more than once she felt him remove one hand and saw him press it to himself, easing the tension.

Too soon, she had to tell him to stop. She wanted to feel him in her when she found her pleasure, and she was fairly sure he wouldn't last much longer either.

He climbed onto the bed and she touched his rough jaw, kissing him heatedly.

He guided himself to her entrance and they both sighed as he pushed into her.

They didn't last long, as she'd guessed, but it was the sweetest release she had ever felt.

He rolled off of her, too soon, but he pulled her to him, and she rested her head against his chest. He buried his face in her hair and she closed her eyes.

They held each other for a long while, saying nothing. She felt as though they had said what they'd wanted to, and she feel asleep, happy and dazed, with his strong arms around her.

…

She handed him a small present as soon as he sat down. "Happy birthday. I wanted to give it to you now, instead of at dinner, because it seemed more appropriate."

He kissed her and opened it, curious.

He smiled at her and kissed her again. "Thank you, love."

Inside the blue wrapping was a metropass.

She kissed his ear "So you can go for a ride whenever you want," she whispered suggestively.

He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair.

"Is this valid starting today?"

She laughed. "Well it is the first of the month."

"And it is my birthday," he added.

"You certainly don't waste time, sir," she said playfully.

He looked at her, eyes dark and half serious. "Certainly not, especially when such an offer is on the table."

"Or on the train, as it were," she joked.

He grinned "Or on the train."

…

It was September, cooler than it had been on that day five years ago when he'd walked into the same car as her. They walked onto the subway together, holding hands.

Once they'd sat down, Catelyn took off her gloves, revealing an elegant silver wedding band that matched the one on Ned's left hand.

Their families asked why they didn't drive to work, and while they said that it was because parking was hell downtown, everyone knew the significance that the subway held for them, and didn't argue it.


End file.
